Atonement
by Dr. Emma Hamish Winchester
Summary: Vader returns to Coruscant to inform Palpatine of the fate of the first Death Star. Memory Anidala (A little, kind of. He thinks about her) One-Shot. Please Read and Review!


A/N: Okay… so I have officially completely descended into Angsty One-Shot Land. This week… the Death Star! Yay!

Warning: Torture

I do not own Star Wars or its characters.

* * *

Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, had at last returned to Coruscant. After the Death Star blew up, he had been left floating in space, alone, with no hyperspace capability and no life support save that which his suit provided. It had taken him hours to make contact with an Imperial ship, but once he did he had been rapidly swept away to the capitol, and now he stood in the Emperor's office (formerly the Chancellor's), explaining the tragedy that had occurred.

"…The rebels discovered a small exhaust port that we were initially unaware of. When photon torpedoes were sent down it, they reached the reactor and exploded."

"How did it happen?"

"There was a boy. I sensed him strongly. He fired the shot from an x-wing."

The anger in the Sith's voice rose, "And did you not attempt to stop him?"

Vader spoke hesitantly, "I did. I myself took a fighter. Unfortunately, I failed to destroy him." He eyed his master, terrified of his likely reaction.

Sidious twitched a finger and suddenly the air was gone from his helmet, disconnected; Vader left gasping in a desperate attempt to breathe.

"You pathetic fool," Sidious snarled, "You pathetic, weak fool."

The younger man collapsed to the floor, clutching his throat, finally ripping off his helmet in an instinctive bid for air, fully aware that doing so would do no good. The painful attempts of his ruined lungs to draw air made him almost want to scream.

The other man rose from his chair, "You were defeated… by a child!"

Vader lay on all fours on the floor as Sidious approached, a hand raised in pleading supplication. "Master, please…" he choked out, gold eyes begging for air, "Mercy…"

An inhuman sound of rage emitted from the other man, "Among the Sith there is no mercy."

Vader raised his hand again in a pathetic show of defense, unable in his current vulnerability to even scramble backward, knowing what was coming even before the Emperor held out his hands. A moment later the need for air was forgotten as he writhed and screamed under Force lightening, blue arcs of electricity dancing over his body. Also, without the breathing apparatus the constant stream of painkillers that permitted him to function were cut off, allowing the pain of his burn scars to return in full force.

Between bouts of lightening he managed to gasp a little, shallowly, allowing him to maintain consciousness, though he knew passing out would be the only way to escape. Well, to a certain extent. This was not the end, and he knew what would happen. The penalty for failure rarely varied once he left this room.

He would be left in his chambers, his supply of painkillers cut off, as Sidious left him to suffer in agony until he decided he had been suitably punished for his failure. Then, once forgiven, he would be once more sufficiently drugged to allow him to function, just enough to make the pain of his old wounds barely tolerable. Then he would be sent on whatever mission his master next required of him. Pain, after all, was a powerful motivator, and that was where Sidious always left him, tottering on the brink of tortured insanity, a useful weapon, and a broken man.

Sobbing in agony, he choked out a few words, "I… hate… you."

The monster smiled, "Good. Let your anger feed your power. You grow greater even as we speak."

Vader screamed once more as lightning sliced through him. _Someday, I will kill you for what you do to me._ He was in and out of consciousness now, and he knew he would pass out soon from pain and air deprivation. He wondered how long he would be abandoned to suffer this time. A few days? A few weeks? It always varied depending on Sidious's mood. And his atonement for this transgression would not end soon. He decided as he lay there his master's death would be long and slow; for every cry he uttered, Sidious would give three. And Vader would enjoy every. single. minute.

Finally he fell limp and unconscious, the screams subsiding, unable to take any more active torture. The Emperor eyed him with hatred and disappointment, then called his guards to drag the inert form from the room.

* * *

"Hey, wake up, silly!"

His eyes fluttered open, met by the sight of a beautiful, grinning woman blocking the sky above him, her face framed by brown curls. Slowly he sat up, studying his surroundings. He was lying on a picnic blanket in the middle of a wide field surrounded by waterfalls; the field, on Naboo. The pain was gone; he was whole again, dressed in his old black robes. He looked back at the woman beside him, who smiled at him teasingly, "Have a nice nap? You know you're supposed to be protecting me."

"Padme," was all he could say, gazing at her longingly. He had missed her so much, even as he buried it beneath anger and obedience, forced it down until it was little more than a tight ache in his gut. Her dress was yellow with ribbons and embroidered flowers, one he remembered from his time protecting her as a padawan. Seeing her… it was like seeing light again. He wanted to crawl to it on his knees; forget all that he had suffered and done. He could forget Sidious, leave, escape…

No! There was a reason he kept these memories buried. They tempted him to the light, reminded him that there were better things than the miserable hell in which he existed. Love was a myth. Kindness was a myth. Friendship was a myth. They were all nothing more than weakness. Power was all that mattered.

He looked back up, his desperate eyes meeting her joyful ones. Power… of which he really had none. Love… which had given him the happiest days of his life. Kindness… which had ensured he did not die in servitude. Friendship…

" _Admiral Tarkin! I should have expected to find you holding Vader's leash."_

The senator was right. He was little more than a lapdog, begging for scraps from Tarkin and Sidious' plates. He had had enough humiliation at their hands.

" _Enough of this foolishness! Vader, release him."_

And on and on. He had hated taking orders from that weasely little man. He was glad he was dead. Still… What had the dark side ever given him? Why should he owe it allegiance?

Then, _"To be angry is to be human,"_ came Padme's comforting voice, breaking the spell. He scrambled to his feet, stepping back and pointing a finger accusingly, "You are _not_ real!"

She looked at him, still smiling despite confusion, "Ani!"

Tears pricked at his eyes, "You betrayed me! I trusted you, and you led Obi-Wan to me!" It was their fault. Without them he wouldn't have the pain, the scars. Without them he wouldn't be forced to live his life with four metal limbs, encased in a life-support suit. She had helped the Jedi to find him, and he had robbed him of everything. The first limb had even been lost _saving_ him, for all the ironic happenings. Obi-Wan had destroyed his body; and he had turned Padme against him.

For that he had payed.

Padme began to look concerned, standing to approach him, "What do you mean, Ani?" Her hands rested on his heaving chest, "Of course I'm real." Grabbing his face in her hands she kissed him, the man desperately, hungrily leaning into it then pulling away a few seconds later, "No! Stop! This is wrong!"

As if propelled by his words the scene changed, and suddenly he was standing on the base on Mustafar, staring at her lifeless body. Lifeless… because of him, because of his selfishness. No, he hastened to remind himself, because of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had forced him to kill her.

Something tapped his shoulder and he turned around, coming face to face with the young Senator Organa. But now she looked furious, the embodiment of righteous wrath, dressed in white Jedi robes, her eyes blazing with a light reflected from the blue lightsaber in her hand.

He had only a moment to process before the lightsaber swung.

* * *

Vader jolted awake to pain, growing aware of the sterile white walls and hard hospital-like cot of his chambers in the Imperial Palace. He could breathe more easily here, the air adjusted to the same makeup as that in his helmet, but that barely mattered, as every fiber of his body screamed in agonized unison for the death it had been denied so many years before.

* * *

Weeks later he knelt once more before his master, chastened and honed, ready to carry out his will.

"...You shall find the boy, Lord Vader. He must die for crossing us."

He bowed his head, "Yes, my master." At the man's dismissive gesture, he rose to exit the room. He was stayed by Sidious's voice behind him.

The Emperor's tone was threatening, "You will make no mistakes this time, my apprentice."

Vader looked back, exchanging a long look with the other Sith. He understood, _"Fail again and I will make what you suffered this time look like children's play."_

He inclined his head subserviently, "I understand. He will die."


End file.
